


first birthdays

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabble, Happy Birthday Katsuki Yuuri, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27793828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: I have my thesis draft due and I lose my 5 hours of work on lesson planning for my job, BUT YUURI KATSUKIDrabbles about Yuuri’s first birthday alone in the US, first birthday with Viktor in Hasetsu, and first birthday with his fiance in St. PetersburgNo beta, sorry. No editing we die like men
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	first birthdays

Detroit

Yuuri still hadn’t grown used to how big, loud and sweet America was. Even though his new coach was technically Italian, he operated out of Michigan with his American hockey-player husband and had leaned into American culture… a little too far. It had been shocking-- spending the summer training and packing and saying goodbye, waiting in Hasetsu for America to start their new school year while his friends went on with his life. Then he had landed in Detroit, and Celestino had stopped at a Starbucks and ordered a latte bigger than Yuuri’s head and a muffin bigger than his fist. A few weeks later, and Celestino slid a face-sized cake with brilliant blue icing flowers and hot pink writing that probably said Happy Birthday Yuuri, but it was hard to tell.

“T-thank you.” Yuuri flushed at his awkward stuttering. Yuuri was 18. Yuuko and Takeshi were already starting a family and Yuuri couldn’t even say thank you properly. Celestino’s house was full of the rest of his students-- international skaters and local skate club kids, along with five or so hockey students. Yuuri appreciated the effort-- but everyone was so tall and wide and smiled too much. Everyone started conversation-- girls complimented his sweater, hockey boys brought up the cute zamboni driver at the rink. Yuuri really just wanted to be back in his dorm room, alone and not having to think of the right English word or forcing smiles.

“Don’t worry Yuuri, you can have a slice on your diet plan,” Celestino boomed, clapping Yuuri on the back and handing him a slice of chocolate birthday cake on a wobbly paper plate. He sat down on a granny-square afghan covered loveseat, carefully cutting a corner of the cake off with the flimsy plastic fork. Twizzle, Celestino’s golden retriever and the highlight of Yuuri’s night, stared directly into Yuuri’s eyes and panted happily. Yuuri didn’t mind the dog breath--it reminded him of Vicchan. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the musky dog smell to be his dog and find comfort in it. Plus, Twizzle was a total sweetheart. She was the only one watching him eat the cake, thank god. Yuuri managed three bites before he stood up in search for a water bottle. He made it another two bites before he felt sick. It was too rich, and Yuuri skirted the edge of the party to hide the folded paper plate in the kitchen garbage can.

Two years later, Celestino would give Yuuri a present instead of a cake-- and his name was Phichit Chulanont.

\----

Hasetsu

Yuuri was perfectly balanced, held between two life-changing events. Viktor had kissed him around two weeks before, and now Yuuri had about the same amount of time until the Grand Prix Final.

Oh, and it was his 24th birthday.

It seemed incidental-- Yuuri had grown used to going to Celestino’s house for a grocery-store cake, and later on, visiting a frat party and getting drunk with Phichit. He had been so miserable the winter before and so preoccupied with being coached by THE Viktor Nikiforov that Yuuri completely forgot. It was like any other day until Yuuri unlocked his phone and did a double-take at the time. 10 AM? He swung out of bed in a panic, changing into his practice clothing. His bedroom door opened at the same time Yuuri pushed his head through his shirt. 

“Makka?” Yuuri paused, somehow tuning into the click of her toenails on the hardwood floor. “I am so screwed, I can’t--”

Viktor’s laugh bubbled out, his cheeks delightfully red as he appeared and Yuuri’s shirt sat on him properly.

“Surprise! I let you sleep in. Happy birthday, Yuu-ri!” Viktor made a grand gesture. Makkachin was wearing a gigantic birthday-cake shaped party hat and bow tie. Viktor was in another one of his designer outfits which mainly consisted dark denim and low-cut shirts.

“Oh-- Th-thank you.” Yuuri stuttered, distracted by the particularly V neck shirt Viktor was wearing. “Aren’t you cold?” He blurted. He would regret it, but somehow, for all his blunders Viktor didn’t make him feel embarrassed as much.

“I’m Russian, Yuuri!” Viktor smiled wide-- Yuuri’s smile, the heart shaped one only he got to see. “Mama and I went and picked up your cake! It is so cute-- is all cake here strawberry flavored?”

Yuuri grabbed a sweater from the back of his desk-- there was no point in dressing up if it was a rest day, but November was really starting to get cold. 

“No? I mean, it’s a popular flavor.” Yuuri yawned and Viktor leaned down and kissed him, light as a feather and twice as sweet. “Stop, I need to brush my teeth,” Yuuri moaned, but Viktor only giggled and slipped his hand around Yuuri’s. They walked downstairs together, Makka trailing close behind. Hiroko had indeed ordered a birthday cake from the local bakery-- it was the same one Yuuri had for every birthday since he was 5-- white shortcake, whipped cream and strawberries, topped with an oval chocolate disc with ‘Yuuri’ piped in white chocolate. The name-chocolate was always the best part-- a hard and sweet bite before soft cream and a burst of fresh strawberry nestled in the middle filling. 

“Ohayou,” Yuuri mumbled sleepily to his mother as Victor prattled on about cakes in Russia. He had slept an extra five hours, but that didn’t mean he was going to wake up any faster. 

“Ohayou!” Viktor said with much more energy-- the same energy he had at 5 am, and most of the day until he hit the wall at 8pm. 

“Shouldn’t the cake be in the refrigerator?” Yuuri asked his mother, pausing to rub his eye before pouring a cup of coffee from the percolator shoved in the corner of the kitchen.

“Vicchan asked if you could have it for lunch. He wants to take you somewhere for dinner.” Hiroko said with a smile of a giddy mother who knew too much. Viktor turned his head away when Yuuri turned to look at him-- his blue eyes looking skyward and he whistled, the innocent act laid on too thick to be believable. Viktor refused to tell any more of the plans-- even when bribed with a china plate with a slice of strawberry cake for brunch. He only smiled, stealing a strawberry off of Yuuri’s plate with an impish grin.

Two hours and a train ride later, Viktor let go of Yuuri’s hand as they came to a stop at the front of the Hotel Okura Fukuoka. Panic rose in his throat-- it was the most expensive hotel in Fukuoka, next to the Grand Hyatt. Too expensive even to host the NHK Trophy competitors.

“You didn’t…” Yuuri said faintly. Viktor hadn’t asked him to pack anything, but his mother also hadn’t asked if she should expect them for dinner.

“I did. I used my credit card rewards, so don’t even think about it.” Viktor responded, his tone oddly solemn. He took Yuuri’s other hand,holding both of Yuuri’s hands in his. “I tried to find a place where we could take our relationship to the next level.”

Yuuri thought he would die right there-- die and melt into the weather drain. It was just as likely as Viktor Nikiforov, asking him, Yuuri Katsuki, to have sex with him in a 5 star luxury hotel.

“If you don’t want to, I completely understand-- I want you to be comfortable. I am totally okay with sticking with kissing until--” Viktor rambled, panicked by Yuuri’s reaction.

Yuuri, instead of explaining how many years he’d fantasized about that exact thing, or oversharing about his virginity and lack of experience due to the fact that he entered puberty knowing nothing would compare to Viktor, stood on his toes to kiss him.

“Take care of me, okay?” Yuuri whispered, his knees weak beneath him.

____

St. Petersburg.

Viktor stared at Yuuri, and the soft halo of black hair spread out on the pillow beneath him. It was almost a year since Yuuri had moved to St. Petersburg, but Viktor still woke up in wonder at his luck. 

“Wake up, my sleeping beauty,” Viktor pressed a line of kisses across his fiance’s forehead. 

“Nnn...No gulyat…” Yuuri mumbled, rolling onto his side and away from the kisses.

“Yuuri! I’m not a dog-- I’m your fiance!” Viktor whined, but it disappeared into a smile when his dark cinnamon eyes opened. 

“Hi.” Yuuri yawned and patted Viktor’s cheek in a tender but teasing way. 

“Hi.” Viktor laughed, his smile widening. “Happy birthday.”

Yuuri only blinked sleepily, a proper response buried beneath layers of slumber.

“I was thinking I could help you in the shower?” Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need help.” Yuuri mumbled, slowly untangling himself from the sheets. Viktor admired the view-- thick thighs, bare underneath the hem of the night shirt that paired with the trousers Viktor was wearing. Yuuri’s smaller shoulders and waist meant he swam in it, and while it had taken three months, Yuuri was now comfortable enough just to sleep in his boxers and a shirt. Pants were more clothing than Viktor was used to sleeping in, but wearing a matching pair had its benefits. Being stamped as an other half being one of them.

“I want to suck you off, solnyshko.” Viktor repeated with a snicker.

“Oh. Okay.” Yuuri’s eyes widened, but he didn’t melt down-- Yuuri needed another ten minutes of wakefulness for that. Viktor helped him out of his clothes on the way to the bathroom and helped Yuuri on their way out of the bathroom. Viktor carried him into the kitchen, Yuuri’s knees weak and body loose from orgasm and hot water. He sat at the kitchen bar, wrapped in one of Viktor’s expensive robes that he only liked because they smelled like Viktor’s cologne.

The russian poured a mug of coffee, stirring in a generous pour of milk and a tiny foil-top cup of simple syrup. Hiroko sent them a box every other month with a bag of the little sugar-cups that usually lived in a tiny bowl in the kitchen at Yuutopia Katsuki. Viktor had exclaimed how much he loved the uniqueness of it all once, and a year later Hiroko still remembered. Yuuri took it with an expression that equated Viktor to a god handing him manna. Viktor’s toes curled with pleasure just at the sight of Yuuri tipping the mug to his lips.

“I know you didn’t want anything for your birthday--”

“We have to save for the wedding.” Yuuri said over the lip of his mug. “I told you-- I’m happy just staying home with you.”

Viktor’s heart squeezed just at Yuuri saying ‘home’.

“I know, I know. But---” He stopped at Yuuri’s dangerous look. “I got you Majora’s Mask 3D. You haven’t had time to play much since the season started.”

Yuuri’s face immediately softened. He slid off the kitchen stool, pressing himself against Viktor. He did this when words weren’t enough-- and honestly Viktor wished it happened more.

They spent the day on the couch, Yuuri curled on Viktor’s lap as he translated the story from his native Japanese and explained the video game in between bites of strawberry cheesecake.


End file.
